


Hollow

by bloodandcream



Series: Ship all the Ships [130]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotions, F/M, Gags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:39:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8125522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: It’s stupid. To even think fucking him would feel anything like being possessed by him.





	

“Shut the fuck up.”

He goes easily when she pushes him back. Crumples like a house of cards. All emptiness. All nothing. Her fist couldn’t have hurt his face very much but it was satisfying to hit him.

“You don’t get to talk about my mom.”

Shoving him back even harder, Claire isn’t sure what she wants to do to him. She wants to hurt him. She wants to make him suffer as much as she had. And she knows that’s impossible. He has more than enough bad choices weighing on him, and she can see the guilt in his eyes clear as a cloudless sky, but it’s not fucking enough. It’ll never be enough.

“You don’t get to fucking comfort me about anything.”

It’ll never be enough because for all the things he’s suffered through he has so much else. So much more to look forward to, so many more options. And what does she fucking have. Everything that he’s taken from her, it’s all that she had.

He tries to say sorry, again, pleading. Claire hits him. Again.

Legs hitting the edge of the motel bed, he sinks down. Sits and lets his body curl forward, head hanging. She hates it when he looks so pitiful. He opens his mouth again like there’s more contrition there for her, more excuses, more empty nothing. So Claire grabs the front of his shirt and snaps him out of it.

“I’ve never felt like myself since you fucking….”

Biting her lip, she yanks at the tie around his neck, gets it loosened enough to pull over his head but it snags at his chin and Claire decides it would be better served holding his tongue back. Tightening it to snag in the corners of his lip and press his tongue in to keep him muffled, Claire knots it and twists the loose end around so the tail of the tie is hanging by his ear.

“Since you…”

She doesn’t even like to think about these things to herself, in her own fucking mind, much less share them with anyone else. But it’s him.

“I keep feeling you.”

His hands are limp in his lap and he does nothing to remove the tie gagged around his face. Stares up at her with those knowing eyes that can be so clueless.

Claire thumps her chest and she hates the sting in the corner of her eyes and how her words lodge in her throat.

“I keep feeling this ache, this, something that’s missing, and I thought if I got my mom back, I thought if I found you, it would…”

Shoving him onto his back on the bed, Claire takes out her aggression and the things she has no words for on him. He reaches out for her, like he could soothe, or gentle the things he can’t understand. She wonders, if he ever feels the hollow of people left behind, if the vessels he touches with his Grace ever linger within him.

“I can’t. I don’t know how to make this stop but it feels like I’m missing something and I’m empty and it hurts and I, I was just a girl, I didn’t know what you asked, I didn’t understand, how could you.”

She can still see her father in him. The body language is all wrong, the voice is all wrong. But he still wears a suit and a tie and a coat like he doesn’t know how to be anything but her father and it hurts. She wants to take things from him. She wants to feel him again, all that light and beauty and power that subsumed her and she has been lost to it ever sense. Like a ghost now, hollow and wanting. But she can remember. She dreams of him sometimes and when she does, she wakes aching and confused.

“You look like…”

Like her dad. Like Jimmy. Things lost long ago she’ll never have again.

In a fit of anger, Claire pushes at him, pulls away the layers that makes her think of her father, his coat and his shoes and his suit. Castiel squirms and he reaches up for the tie she gagged in his mouth but Claire stills and she looks him straight in the eye and she digs her fingernails into the meat of his thigh. He goes slack beneath her stare.

She’s not completely inexperienced, not when it comes to a body and what to do with it, it’s just all the emotions that go along with it that she’s not very good at handling.

Claire knows that it isn’t the same and it won’t fix everything but she wonders if she can feel a spark of his Grace again, if she can feel him inside her with his intention and his divinity. And she hopes that she can make him as wretched and wanting as she is.

He has tried so hard to be what she is missing, but his attentions are too late and they are not what she needs. Hell, this isn’t either. But it’s something. It’s better than the terrible parent act he tries to pull. This, this is warm and it’s pleasant and it should feel so dirty to fuck an angel who wears her father’s face but Claire sinks down onto him and she takes anything she wants and she feels powerful. She feels the spark beneath his skin and she recognizes it. Faint, distant like a storm just rolling in. It crackles and warms beneath her fingers.

Maybe he’s even more naive than her. Claire places his hands upon her thighs and he holds her. She bends to kiss the pout of his lip stretched out where the tie splits his mouth, and he groans through it.

Claire’s not sure who she’s trying to punish here.

She feels so small again, so young and so stupid when she said yes because she thought she could save her family. She’s taken his yes this time, though, flipped the tables, and it’s not enough, but shouldn’t it bring her some bitter satisfaction. Almost. Just on the edges of her awareness is what she’s been missing, but separated by bodies she knows she’ll never feel it again.

It’s stupid. To even think fucking him would feel anything like being possessed by him.

Claire leaves him still dirty and gagged on the bed afterward. Breathing heavy and watching her, he moves stiffly to sit up and tug at the knot that’s dug angry pink lines in his cheeks. Claire pulls on her jeans and her jacket and she runs hands through messy hair.

“Just fucking leave me alone.”

Is all she says, but she knows the problem is that she’ll never be rid of the hollow ache left behind by his Grace.


End file.
